


Not like this

by Adara_Rose



Series: Seashelly Fictober 2018 [7]
Category: Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Fictober, Fictober 2018, Idiots in Love, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 14:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16220705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: Jefferson wants Shelly desperately, but not like this. Not while he's under the influence of an unknow aphrodisiac.But he's too much in love to say no.





	Not like this

“How did this happen?” Jefferson asked and dodged behind Smolder. “This is why you don’t let him go on missions unless strictly necessary.”

“I don’t know,” the doctor said grimly as he took a battle stance, “some flower sprayed pollen over both of us. I don’t know why he’s reacting and I’m not.”

“Could it be allergies?” Ruby said somewhere to Jefferson’s right.

“Get out of the way, Smolder” Shelly insisted, “or you’re going to meet the business end of my trowel.”

Jefferson whimpered, looking for a way to run as Smolder panicked and scrambled out of the way for the mentioned trowel.

There wasn’t one.

 

* * *

 

“This is an- oh god- a really bad idea” Jefferson managed between kisses, wondering where his shirt went. “You’re under the influ-” he was silenced by a hungry tongue invading his mouth.

Then he was flat on his back, with no idea how he’d ended up naked.

“You want me,” Shelly said logically as he pressed him down into the bedroll, “you’re very obvious, you know.” 

Jefferson half-whimpered, half-sobbed as his legs instinctively parted.

“Not like this” he begged, “not like this- not-”

But resisting wasn’t on the cards, not really. Not when the man he was hopelessly in love with looked at him like he wanted to devour him.

So he figured he might as well lie back and think of Jumanji. He wasn't going to give himself over fully, and sure as hell wasn't going to enjoy it.

He failed miserably.

 

* * *

 

“Oh  _ god!”  _ Jefferson howled as Shelly pounded into him with a force that should have hurt but only served to turn him on more. He clutched desperately at Shelly’s shoulders, feeling as if he was about to shatter. His nipples ached, his stomach heaved, his cock was so hard it hurt when it was rubbed between their stomachs, every thrust pressing him down into the bedroll hard enough to knock most of the air out of his lungs. It felt as if he was shattering, helpless but to hang on for dear life.

“Please… oh god…  _ harder…”  _

Shelly bit his shoulder, hard enough to bruise, and hiked his legs up further. The angle changed so that the cock rutting into him pressed in even deeper if that was possible, and Jefferson stopped making any attempt to keep from screaming even though there was barely any air left in his lungs. He was gasping for air, his fingers drawing blood, his thighs aching with the strain of keeping them parted, every thrust jolting through his body making him sob and wail from the intensity.

“Fuck” Shelly groaned into his sweaty neck, and wasn’t it odd to hear him curse? “you feel fantastic.”

 

* * *

 

He was so sore, now, as he braced himself on elbows and knees, head down and back bowed, keening every time Shelly bottomed out. He had no idea how many times Shelly had ripped him apart and rebuilt him again, rutting into him like a beast, taking and conquering and enslaving him. Bite marks littered his sore body, his thighs throbbed from the strain and the skin having been rubbed raw as Shelly previously had buried his face between his legs, eating him out with a hunger that had made Jefferson scream loud enough to probably wake the rest of the camp.

“Please!” He whimpered arching his back and spreading his knees further, not knowing what he was begging for. More or less? Go on or stop?

Perhaps it was both.

 

* * *

 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Shelly was done with him. Jefferson could barely move, every single movement making his entire body throb like he had done a full-body workout. To be fair, he had. They’d had sex more times than he could count, and he was so exhausted he felt like he could sleep for a week. Outside the tent, he could hear the chirping of cicadas, and the rustling of the wind. It wasn’t quite enough to silence his cries, so he curled up as well as he could and pressed his fist to his mouth.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had fantasized for so long about getting to be with Shelly, to touch him, to make love to him. How happy he’d be. And now it had happened, and all he felt was the pain. His chest ached so much it was hard to breathe. Nothing had ever hurt half as much as this, and he wished desperately that this night had never happened. It would have been better to never know Shelly’s touch than to know it like this. Because it wasn’t real; Shelly had been influenced by something, he didn’t know what, but something. This wonderful night, that should have been the happiest in his life, had been sullied. He’d never be able to look at Shelly again without remembering how they’d been together. How amazing it had been. How fake.

He tried to make himself as small as possible; as if it would make the hurt lessen. It didn’t, but he didn’t know what else to do.

Thick arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close to a warm body.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Shelly’s voice was warm, and if he pretended hard enough it almost sounded loving.

“Don’t” Jefferson sobbed, “don’t call me that.”

“But you are my sweetheart” Shelly teased him gently. When it only made Jefferson cry harder, his voice grew serious.

“I need you to look at me.”

He desperately shook his head. Didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to know. Just wanted to get out of there, to hide in his own tent and lick his wounds. But Shelly’s grip was too strong for his exhausted body. He had no choice but to stay where he was.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

“No!” it would have been wailed if his throat wasn’t so hoarse. 

He wanted to struggle when he was carefully moved so that he was facing Shelly, but his limbs were like water and wouldn’t obey him.

He stared determinedly at Shelly’s neck, not being able to raise his gaze further than that. There were multiple marks there. Marks he’d made. His eyes blurred, leaving him unable to really see anything at all through his tears.

Shelly carefully cupped his chin, turning his face so that Jefferson was unable to not look at his eyes. Thankfully, the tears blinded him to whatever was there.

 

The shock when Shelly gently started kissing away his tears nearly made Jefferson’s heart stop in his chest.

“Wha-” he managed with a wet gasp. 

“There, now. Wipe those tears.”

“But-” more tears fell even as they were kissed away. Why did this gentleness hurt more than the earlier passion?

“I love you,” Shelly said gently, holding him closer. 

Jefferson desperately shook his head.

“No.” he protested. “You’re unde-”

He was silenced by a kiss, pressed gently to his quivering lips.

“There is no aphrodisiac plant in the world that can force what isn’t already there.”

He didn’t understand. It didn’t make any sense. 

“I- I don’t unde’sta-” he hiccuped.

“You are so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. I’ve lived most of mine. I didn’t want to hold you back.” He thought he saw a rueful smile. “But then tonight- well. I couldn’t resist you anymore.”

“But-” he tried again, then fell silent as Shelly kissed him again. 

He didn’t dare to believe it. It had to be a trick, or a spell, or the influence of a plant of some kind. Because Shelly didn’t love him; He’d resigned himself to that.

“It’s going to be alright, pet. You love me, and I love you. Everything else can wait til the morning.”

Pet? He liked that. 

He could learn to believe in that.


End file.
